Cricket's Cage
by emeraldapple
Summary: Etiquette classes? No. Secret weapons practice? Yes and yes. Meet Princess Shinkokami before she came to Tortall, and read about her not-so-easy life as a Yamani princess.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first story for POTS, I hope you'll continue to read as I update the story...please review :)

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><p><strong>Cricket's Cage<strong>

Sitting in the garden, Princess Shinkokami sighed, thinking about the past, about the days when she was called 'Cricket' by a very energetic little girl…

"_Cricket! You're here again today, want to play?" the little girl said, grinning mischievously at Shinkokami._

_ "Kel! Yes…I mean, are you sure?" she would reply, hesitantly._

_ Kel wouldn't take no for an answer, and pulled on her sleeve, "What are you waiting for, silly? Let's go play with the ball, or we can…"_

"Princess, princess?"

Visions of those happy memories faded away as the lush green of the garden pulled her back to the present. The maidservant was insistently calling her from the walkway, and from the way she was gesturing, she had something important to tell her. Sighing discreetly as she adjusted her luxuriant kimono around her, she took out her fan and with a flick of her wrist opened it to hide her face from the girl who waited for her several paces away. Quickly brushing away an errant tear with her sleeve, Shinkokami, rose and proceeded towards the maidservant. Still lost in thought, she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the very robust Keladry. Shinkokami frowned, carefully hiding the un-Yamani like expression with her fan of course, what would Keladry have done in her current situation?

Shinkokami shook her head, that wasn't really a fair question, and she knew it. Herself, being a Yamani princess, had to strictly abide by the conventions of her country.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Yes?" she inquired politely, after the maidservant had bowed to her.

"Princess, your father, the emperor, requires your presence." she replied.

"Thank you, and what is your name?"

"Kimi, Princess." the girl replied happily.

"Are you new, here?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Thank you again, Kimi. But if I may ask, is there something wrong? You keep on glancing at me."

"You are just very beautiful, Princess…but if I dare say…"

Shinkokami nodded at Kimi to go on.

"You also seem sad, somehow."

Shinkokami stiffened, this girl could see how she felt? That was unacceptable! If she could tell, than who else could? How long before the court gossips began insinuating that she was brazen and far too emotional. She was to be as stone, indifferent, and impenetrable to people's perceptions. Uncharacteristically, she snapped, just a bit—taking her anger out on Kimi.

"You go too far." Shinkokami's voice whipped out in a verbal lash, "Please go, you are dismissed." She emphasized this command with a closed snap of her fan.

Shinkokami felt bad as she saw the poor girl pick up her skirts and flee, but there were other things that she had to consider as well. Her reputation, for one, and her mother, on the other. Shinkokami knew that she would eventually be married off to one person or another, to help her father politically, but she did not want to be quickly married off because no one would agree to have such a 'spoiled' daughter, and by extension, bring shame upon her mother. She played with a bamboo leaf as she considered the other things that weighed heavily upon her mind nowadays—and gave up, there were far too many! Weapons practice for one, was a whole other issue unto itself.

Back when she had met Kel, years ago, the tradition of women receiving warrior training was still prevalent among the Yamani Islands. Now however, it was greatly frowned upon. Shinkokami had to sneak in her naginata practice when she was supposed to be studying, and well, still finish all the work that her tutors gave her at the same time. Learning about the history of wars and tactics was exciting, but she was less than thrilled when it came time to arrange flowers. Sighing again, she did really sigh a lot these days, she wound back through the garden, occasionally pausing to admire the stark elegance of the miniature trees, and the irregular forms of the jagged rocks. The wind blew her hair softly over her shoulder, and she took it as a good sign; maybe her father was going to give her some leeway on naginata practice! If not, well...maybe with her bladed fan, or swords? Shinkokami shook her head, she was expecting far too much, she just needed to listen to what her father was going to tell her. In her room again, she groaned as she remembered that she had to switch into a different, more ornate kimono, and decorate her hair if she was going to see her father.

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><p>Yay Shinkokami, yay reviews, too! I'll stop begging for reviews after this chapter. :)<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Shinkokami felt the burgeoning weight of the imperial crest both in the stares of the courtiers as well as in the formal silk kimono that she wore to signify her status as a princess of the second-rank in the imperial family. It was unbearable. Not only did she have to answer to her "father" (he was really her uncle), but she had to be perfect everyday—in front of others, at least. It was not really that she held any particular grudge against her uncle, but to her, he always just seemed to be especially indifferent. This time though, when she shuffled softly into the ceremonial hall with its opulent golden decorations and lavishly painted screens, Shinkokami was sure that she clearly felt a manifestation of ominous foreboding in the atmosphere. But then, she quickly shut that rebellious thought away…be obedient, she told that part of herself, turn into stone. Really, Shinkokami, she said in a silent scold, you must have not been sleeping well these past few days; what sort of "ominous foreboding" could ever befall you anyhow, you are a privileged princess, your life is perfect. But in her heart, she knew that even with all she had, she was not satisfied, she was uneasy and caged, much like the crickets that some of the imperial consorts kept in small cages to bring them luck.

Despite her inner turmoil, however, Shinkokami's face was impassive, and betrayed none of her thoughts. Most Yamani were raised with the ideal of showing as little emotion as possible, but this particular philosophy had been drilled into her with an uncompromising intensity by her mother. Again, she refrained from sighing, but instead slightly bit the inside of her cheek. Yes, she admitted internally, I do obey tradition above all else—and sometimes, sometimes I hate myself for my self-inflicted bondage, but what can I do?

She was at just the right distance from the emperor, now, and made the most respectful bow that her position allowed her.

"I hope the imperial father finds himself in good health," she said softly, trying to add evidence of her "reverence" through softly modulated tones.

"He does find himself to be in the most excellent of spirits, and most lucky to have a daughter like you, Princess Shinkokami," responded an equally feminine voice from behind the sheer veil.

Shinkokami nearly jumped at the sound of _that_ voice, she had not expected the empress to be attending this audience! If the murmurs behind her indicated anything, the courtiers attending the event were also quite surprised that the empress was here. Still in a ceremonial bow, Shinkokami had to physically restrain herself from looking at what expression Empress Kazumi was making at the moment. If Shinko had to guess, she would probably say that it was something along the lines of a small moue of disappointment that always suddenly made an appearance upon her aunt's face when she met her. Even though it was especially unacceptable for this sort of emotion to consistently made itself known on Kazumi's smooth face, being that she was, after all supposed to be a beneficent empress, the court had been so accustomed to this reaction, that they did not remark upon it any longer. "Kazumi" meant "harmonious beauty" in Yamani; and although the latter part of that phrase was very true of the empress, Shinko hardly found the relationship between her and her aunt, "harmonious" at all. Finding this incongruity strangely amusing, Shinko became red in the cheeks from holding in her laughter.

To those who were watching her with close scrutiny, and certainly from where the empress was positioned with the higher ranking officials gathered around the raised dais, Shinko's sudden change in coloration was visible.

Of course, the empress was the first one to start speaking again, recovering from the astonishment that many were overwhelmed with after seeing such an "embarrassing" show of emotion.

"Princess Shinkokami," the empress said in a quivering tone, "why has such a sudden scarlet risen to your cheeks?"

Shinko knew that she was going to be a lot worse off than time her etiquette teacher had caught doing her doing naginata pattern dances instead of the court dances she was supposed to be in the midst of practicing (really, did her tutor have to come in just when she was making a slash at the door?), is she did not make up a plausible, and outstanding excuse immediately.

In possibly the most demure voice she had ever used, Shinko replied, "Oh, Empress Kazumi, I hoped I have not tread upon your most glorious kindness," she paused as if overcome with internal happiness (and let some of her leftover hilarity leak out), "but I am simply so happy that one such as me is held in such a regard by my imperial father, and the empress." Phew, she thought, well that was a close one.

Almost immediately, the effect that Shinkokami predicted took place. A soft shush of approval settled over the room, at the implied compliment Shinkokami had so aptly responded with.

At present, only the Empress was unimpressed with Shinko's words. Yes, Shinkokami could sense that Kazumi thought that she had had Shinko cornered with her little barb about Shinko's blush.

Her uncle finally decided to speak up, "You are most appropriate, my daughter, and now I know that I can put both my trust and the country's trust in you."

Uh-oh, that phrase sounded distinctly suspicious—when they started talking about duty and "entrusting sacred traditions", that usually meant that they were about to ask something significant of you. Shinko really hoped that it was not going to be about being a shrine maiden for the upcoming festival, because she really would like to see the visiting Shang fighters that were sure to come with the masses of people who flocked to the capital for the celebration of spring, as well as for viewing the breathtaking show of sakura, or cherry blossoms, in the trees that pervaded the imperial grounds.

What he finally told her, was much worse. Unimaginably so.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thwack, thwack, thwack._ That was the steady sound of Shinkokami's shinai hitting the wooden targets over and over again. Her hands at first had been irritated after the first thousand strokes, but now they were raw, red as hot stones—and a burning sensation seemed to be all that she could feel coming from them. Even after doing weapons practice for over three hours straight, Shinkokami could still not restrain her rage when she thought about her uncle's words, but most especially Kazumi's. They wanted her to get _married_. They wanted to marry her off _soon_.

Marriage, she knew, was an inevitable part of every princess' life, _but still_, she thought, angrily beating the wooden target, _why do I have to get married to my own cousin_? Intermarriage between the imperial family was not uncommon, due to the fact that royal blood was not exactly able to be found just anywhere, however, Shinko found this practice disturbing. She wasn't making a judgment on those who truly wished to be together, but Shinko hated how all these practices were implicated to keep the bloodline "pure". She did not want to be married off like so much horseflesh if she could help it.

_Crack!_ Her shinai had finally broken after all the abuse that she had put it through, and so had her patience with it.

"I am going to kill someone!" she yelled at the unmoving boulders of the rock garden.

"Really, now." A slow voice drawled at her back. Shinko whipped around, her hands rigidly gripped around the pieces of her broken shinai. She held back a gasp as she saw a figure clothed in a dark navy that matched the darkening night. She took a sharp breath that tightened her chest. _Ninja_.

"What are you doing here? These gardens are forbidden to all but the royal family." Shinko tried to keep her voice calm and steady—but she knew that this ninja's appearance could only mean that someone wanted her death. But she was undoubtedly shaken, she hadn't even heard a tell-tale crunch of gravel behind her when the ninja had spoken.

He—it was an unmistakably masculine voice—spoke, "Whether or not I'm allowed in here is probably the least of your worries, Shinkokami." He deliberately took one step closer to her, his eyes dark and luminous in the moonlight. As she had thought, his movement made no noticeable sound.

Shinko decided that she was not going to take the kind of disrespect from anyone. Loosening her hands into a more relaxed grip, she stepped back and then quickly lunged forward, arms spread wide. Gravel flew like sharp shards from a broken vase. Shinko swung her left arm towards his side and brought her other arm down from overhead. Either she'd knock him out, or she'd put him in such pain that he could no longer move. To her surprise, he stood there stock-still until the very last moment. Then she lost sight of him and there was an unforgiving knife pressed into her neck. Shinko instantly stiffened, taking the utmost care not to make a single movement. A distracting drop of sweat rolled down her neck as she slowly turned her head to meet her captor's face. The ninja's eyes were glittering with a subtle amusement that irked Shinkokami. _He looks like he's smirking at me under that ridiculous piece of cloth_.

"Now," he murmured again in that infuriatingly attractive purr—_wait_, _did I just think that his voice was attractive_?

"That was not a very nice thing to do, was it, _Shinko_." He put a sarcastic emphasis on the word as if he especially meant to annoy her.

Shinko continued struggling against the strong arms that encircled her waist and neck, trying in vain to somehow stab him with the jagged wooden spires of her broken practice sword.

"Don't you _dare_ call me by anything other than Princess Shinkokami!" she shouted, stumbing as he let her go.

"We can't have that." He addressed her as he might a child, with a condescending manner of speaking. The ninja had suddenly released her, but quickly grabbed her wrists and squeezed them until she felt her delicate bones grind against each other. Shinko cried out in pain and dropped her makeshift bludgeons. As soon as she had let go of her shinai, the ninja had eased the pressure that he was exerting on her wrists, but still kept a firm grip on them. She kicked out with desperation, and hooked his ankle with the crux of her foot. They tumbled down onto the coarse gravel that covered the garden.

The ninja, pressed against her, quickly pinned her arms down with his own. Even in this situation, she blushed at the contact, but then quickly resumed her violent struggles to free herself of this man.

"You're feisty, for a princess. Are you sure that you're not some _kitsune_, trapping me with your tricks?" Shinko thought she heard a joking smile in his voice, but it was hard to tell, especially with that knife still to her neck. _I am no fox spirit!_

Shinko spat in his face with a deep satisfaction that no properly raised Yamani princess should possess, and banged her forehead into his with a sharp crack that left her a bit woozy, but still ready to move. The ninja, not expecting her reaction had lurched back a little too late. She had hit him full-on. Shinko now straddled him, quickly grabbing a piece of her shinai to hold over his neck. They were both breathing heavily, heating up the brisk night air.

"You move, and I will stab you straight through your neck. Understand?" The ninja nodded. Carefully, she used a corner of her sleeve to pull down the mystery ninja's face mask. When he moved to push it back up, she raised her left arm high, as if preparing for a stab. His hands rapidly darted back to his sides. This time, Shinko pulled down the blue silk strip with out any hesitation and saw the face of her enigmatic attacker for the first time. He was handsome, that much could be said about him. His face was angular and defined, and those eyes. As ever, they stared back at her, really _at her_, with a cheerful insolence.

"There," he laughed although it sounded rather forced and artificial, "are you glad to have seen my face now, _kitsune_?"

"I want your name." Shinko would remember his face, but without a name, her knowledge was practically useless.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Shinko definitively cut him off.

"Your real name." she menaced, holding her wooden weapon a little closer to the ninja. This time, his eyes hardened, becoming frosty and indifferent to a degree that Shinko felt frissons of fear running down her spine.

"So you want to punish me, is that it?" he said flatly, "that's all you care about, isn't it, you and your own safety." Shinko was about to protest when she saw a glimmering droplet of blood splash onto the ninja's face.

"Wha—" he said, as confused as she was. Shinko felt dizzy and disoriented. She also felt a strange warmness run down her throat as the moon wheeled crazily in a field of ebony. Pressing her hand against the front of her neck, she then looked down at its crimson covered surface. _Is that…my…blood_? She slumped forward, almost loosing consciousness.

The ninja was almost _panicked_—no, that couldn't be right—at her sudden collapse. Shinko found herself in his lap, which she noted dazedly, was quite comfortable except for the burning line etched across her throat.

"I guess I just couldn't bring myself to do you in, _kitsune_." A soft emerald halo cloaked his hand as he brought it closer to her neck. Shinko grabbed his hand, stopping it only a few inches from her neck.

He wrenched it impatiently out of her grip, "I know what I'm doing! Just let me—"

"Your name," Shinko rasped, coughing up crimson blood, "tell me."

Her world was falling into to the shadows as he leaned in and whispered to her, his words carried on a warm breath, "Ren".


	5. Chapter 5

_ Ugh, why do I feel so horrible?_ Bracing her hands on the padded tatami mat, she brought herself up to a sitting position, Shinkokami regarded her bandaged hands with a blank incomprehension. Then the pounding headache hit, as well as her most recent memories. Shinko jumped to her feet, wild with anxiety. _Have I been captured?_ The soft _thud_ with which she landed on her futon told her no. Now that she was more awake, she realized that she was back in her bedroom, with its simple, but elegant scroll paintings and her 'decorative' weapons.

Her hand flew to her neck, but she only felt the slightest ridge of a scar—not the raw wound she had been expecting. Come to think of it, it wasn't really her neck that hurt, but her head. How was she going to explain the state in which they had found her yesterday night…at this rate, she was never going to be let out of her apartments—and Shinko simply couldn't _stand_ the thought of such a thing happening. She desperately, desperately wanted to enjoy the _hanami_, or flower viewing—she knew it was coming. But the royal mage had not yet said anything about the _sakurazensen_ which indicated that the flowers would be blooming. And there was so much to worry about and _ugh_! There went her headache again…

Somehow, Shinkokami had an intense longing to truly see those blush-pink flowers this year, and she could not bear the thought of being kept away from yet another _hanami_.

Somebody finally slid open the door to her bedroom with a loud _bang_, and much haste. It was Kimi, if she remembered correctly.

The girl literally threw herself at Shinko's feet.

"P-p-princess, she stammered, "I heard the bell ring, but I was on the other side of the compound—and—"

"Stop it." said Shinko.

Kimi looked up at her with frightened eyes, and her fingers frenetically scrunched and unscrunched her plain servant's hakama.

"Pl-pl-please princess, I'm not trying to make excuses, or anything of the sort, I—"

Shinkokami sighed and put a slim finger to her own lips, "It's alright, Kimi."

The girl looked at her with bright, startled eyes, as if she had not really expected Shinko to know who she was.

Kimi sighed in a small exhalation of relief. And promptly began to help Shinkokami with her clothes. When she was adjusting Shinko's front collar, however, she gasped. Her fingers instinctively moving upwards to feel the thin, but lengthy scar that ran across Shinko's neck. When Kimi realized what she was doing, she dropped her hand as quickly as possible.

"S-so s-sorr-ry Princess." Shinko sighed again. Was she going to have to command Kimi not to be afraid of her? Her lips spread out in a wicked smile.

"Kimi." Shinko said, in a firm, but commanding voice.

"Yes?" The girl's voice came out barely louder than a mouse's squeak.

"I command you to no longer be afraid of me."

"But, that's impossible, Princess." Kimi blurted out the words just as Shinko finished the sentence.

Shinko quirked an eyebrow up.

Kimi sighed a heartfelt sigh, "If you so wish it, Princess. And—" Kimi opened her mouth as if she had been about to speak, but quickly shut it, and cast her eyes demurely downward.

"Being unafraid also includes being brave enough to ask me questions, Kimi." Shinko said, laughing inside—she hadn't had such fun since Kel had played with her so long ago—and been so excited since _Ren_ had—no, she couldn't think about that.

"Why do you have a scar on your neck?"

Shinko frowned, Kimi just had to start with the difficult questions, didn't she?

"Tell this to no one."

"You have my word—I swear this by our very own goddess of mercy." Replied Kimi. Shinko shivered, she didn't have to go _that_ far.

"Well, how are you going to cover it up?" Shinko found that Kimi had become much more direct after getting over her initial nervousness. Shinko found it infinitely refreshing to have somebody talk to her so honestly—it was nice to have somebody to confide in. Shinko had been wondering that herself. It wouldn't do to have an inexplicable scar in plain sight during the Carthaki ambassadorial visit this afternoon. She couldn't very well tell them about Ren's surprise visit as she had Kimi.

Shinko groaned in a most unladylike manner and let loose a string of blush-inducing curses. Kimi, to Shinko's surprise, laughed.

"You remind me of my older sister." Kimi said, looking a bit sad. Twitching her hand, she added another stroke to her picture in the dirt. They had moved out to the garden to get some sun although Shinko knew that it would ruin her pearly complexion. Shinko peered more closely at the picture. It was a loose rendition of herself sunning! Kimi noticed Shinko's silence and glanced over, to find Shinko's interested gaze. Shinkokami stopped her before she could scuff out her dirt-drawing.

Kimi was blushing an embarrassed shell pink.

"Can you paint?" Shinko said, the first tendrils of a plan forming in her mind.


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter is probably not super exciting, but you get to meet someone new...Ren'll come back in the next chapter, though :) Enjoy!

Chapter 6

"How lovely, princess!"

Quite a few ears and eyes turned in their direction; everyone—well, nobility at the very least—loved any manner of gossip, especially gossip about the latest fashions. And Shinko had to admit, she _was_ making quite the statement. It wasn't, however, the rose-colored kimono she wore that attracted so much attention, nor the discrete, yet elegant, silver hairpin that held up her ebony hair. It was the brilliant, crimson phoenix curled around her neck that captured the court's eyes. Its burning eyes and vivid plumage caused more than a few persons to take several glances before realizing that the animal was actually just _painted_ on.

The woman who had complimented her had warm brown eyes and a firm grip, her hands spattered with recent paint stains as though she simply could not abide being away from her paints for too long a time, royal events or not. It seemed that Chaya Zetnar, the Carthaki court painter, could not resist her paints for long.

"It is an honor to meet you, Zetnar-_sensei_." Shinko murmured, just loud enough for the woman to hear. The woman raised her eyebrows, a grin widening on her face.

"I'm surprised that you even know my name." Chaya chuckled, in a low but melodious voice. The woman stepped back and bowed at the waist, looking far more elegant than the many court ladies who had curtsied so delicately earlier this evening.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Shinkokami, but call me Chaya—_sensei _is a bit _too_ much of an honor for someone of my skill."

Shinko laughed lightly and relaxed a bit, "Call me Shinko, then, Chaya." _As I am hardly the delicate creature that I am expected to be._ The painter inclined her head, and steered Shinko into a small, sheltered alcove set off from the main floor of the room.

"You should sit and eat, Shinko." Chaya shook her head at Shinko while trying to amiably force food on the princess.

"No, no…I prefer to talk to you." Shinko waved a hand in refusal even though her stomach grumbled.

Chaya cocked an eyebrow at that, but let the matter go. Setting the food aside, Chaya and Shinko began to talk about all manner of things, Shinko's habitual, and rather frosty reserve, melting in the face of Chaya's warm sincerity and vivacious nature. They discussed politics, their mutual concerns about the latest piracies, literature, and quite frankly, Shinko was surprised that the woman knew so much. On the other hand, she couldn't help but notice the fleeting moments in which Chaya's eyes darted down from Shinko's face to her neck. Bemused, Shinko decided to be direct with Chaya.

"Is there something especially interesting about my…decoration?" She said, gesturing to her neck, as she had no idea as to what she should call Kimi's masterpiece.

Chaya ducked her head and chuckled, "You are far too observant, Princess." Shinko was not sure whether that comment qualified as a compliment or not. Making a quick decision after some consideration, Shinko stood gracefully.

"Shinko…?"

"It is my turn to take you somewhere, Chaya." The idea delighted her even more as she thought on it.

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><p>"I really would like to see who painted—and such unusual colors—confident strokes—" Chaya murmured such comments to herself as Shinko led her down the hall, and turned into an expansive garden. She heard the princess sigh and smiled to herself once again, knowing that she must have heard her—that was always half the fun of <em>saying<em> things aloud though. It usually gave people enough to chew on, instead of bothering her.

Taking in the impeccably maintained gardens with a wide gaze of appreciation, Chaya looked at the delicate figure of the princess in front of her. _She's quite interesting, this one_. Although what had initially piqued her interest was the art wrapped around her throat, and the mag—no, it was too early to assume _that _just yet; as Chaya had talked to Shinko and seen her uncharacteristic confidence, Shinko had begun to become a new object of fascination for her. Chaya rolled her eyes in thinking of the usual Yamani reaction to a comment that they seemed confident. Chaya would even bet by the dice of the Graveyard Hag—at _that_ thought, she smirked unknowingly—that most noble Yamani would rather die than be accused of such a breach of etiquette.

Stopping quietly on the path, Chaya realized that they were far enough from the reception hall that she could no longer hear the bright noise that inevitably accompanied such gatherings. Looking forward, to where Shinko had briefly stopped, she could not stop the small gasp of surprise that had exited her lungs.

Giving her a small smile, Shinko laid her hand on a solid wooden door that bore the crest of the imperial family. Though seemingly ordinary, Chaya knew that such entrances held many trigger, protection, and recognition spells that usually insured the royalty's safety from unwanted intruders.

The door briefly flashed blue, and Shinko opened the door to a delightful wilderness that pleased Chaya even more so than the rigorously maintained grounds that Shinko had guided her through.

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><p>Shinko's back relaxed as tension that she had not even known she carried dropped from her shoulders. It was simply so <em>good<em> to be away from the constant dance of politics and courtesies and pretenses and that _appearance_ that she had to constantly sustain. After a quick glance had established that no servants lingered outside to watch her and Chaya, she slid open the door, motioned distractedly with a hand for Chaya sit down at her teak table, and rang the scarlet cord that hung close to her bed.


End file.
